


Politically Correct

by dracoqueen22



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Sitting, M/M, Post-Combiner Wars, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 12:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6195280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream knew what Optimus didn't, that the Prime wasn't the one in control here. He never was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Politically Correct

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Radio-Cybertron on Tumblr.

“Well,” Starscream purred as he stepped through the door to his berth room, “What have we here? Becoming a tyrant wasn't enough for you that you're now resorting to breaking and entering?”  
  
“I am not a tyrant,” Optimus Prime said as he lowered the datapad that had been his focus. “And if you'll recall, you gave me the passcode.”  
  
Starscream stepped entirely inside, the door sliding shut behind him. He arched an orbital ridge. “I gave you the old passcode. From three passcodes ago. I'd ask how you acquired the new one, but I'm starting to realize I shouldn't underestimate you.”  
  
Optimus tilted his head. “Then you know why Megatron could never beat me.”  
  
Starscream snorted and strutted over to his cabinet, unsurprised to find the key had already been inputted. Optimus must have helped himself to the engex. “You could never defeat each other,” he corrected, giving Optimus a sidelong look. “Your mutual obsession was pathetic.”  
  
“It wasn't an obsession,” Optimus retorted.  
  
Starscream grabbed a bottle of Praxian Elite – or an attempt to recreate it anyway – and arched an orbital ridge at the Prime. He didn't need to say anything.  
  
Optimus flicked his datapad onto the end table. “It was complicated,” he amended with a rumble of his engine. “Besides, you're one to talk.”  
  
“Mmm.” Starscream made a non-committal noise and poured himself a glass of the engex.  
  
He took a sip, savoring the flavor, letting it linger on his glossa. His wings rose and fell slowly, and he felt the weight of Optimus' gaze upon them. Ha. Mechs and their obsessions. Sometimes, they could be painfully easy to manipulate.  
  
Starscream took another sip, the engex hitting his tank with a blossom of warmth. “So,” he purred, turning slowly. “What earns me the honor of a visit from the great and magnificent Optimus Prime?”  
  
He headed toward the berth, his steps slow and measured. “Or, should I be calling you, sir? Should I be bowing perhaps?”  
  
Starscream pointedly shifted his gaze to the left, though he kept Optimus' expression in his peripheral view. “Am I even worthy to be in your presence?”  
  
Optimus snorted. “Stop that. You don't believe in their worship any more than I do.”  
  
“No. But I do find it amusing.” Starscream's lips curled into a smirk as he lifted one knee onto the edge of the berth, taking another sip of his engex. “Don't tell me you're not flattered. It's been a long time since a Cybertronian looked at a Prime with the reverence the title once deserved.”  
  
Optimus stared back at him. “The title was and has always been worthless.”  
  
“Keep telling yourself that.” Starscream shrugged and lifted the engex back to his lips.  
  
Strong fingers intercepted him, wrapping around his wrist before he could tilt the cube. Optimus was close enough that with a light tug and a lean, he pulled the cube toward his own mouth.  
  
His battlemask slid aside. Optimus' gaze met Starscream's own as he stole a taste of Starscream's engex. Quite boldly, Starscream might add.  
  
Optimus Prime had changed over the years, he remarked with an internal shiver of delight. Or perhaps Optimus had been like this all along. Perhaps this side of him had only been hidden, begging to be drawn out of the dark.  
  
“Thief,” Starscream murmured.  
  
Optimus' glossa lapped at the edge of the cube, catching a stray drop of engex. “I assumed you meant to share.” He drew back without releasing his hold on Starscream's wrist.  
  
Starscream was left to finish his ascent to the berth, though with less grace then he'd hoped. Optimus' grip didn't hurt, but it was firm. Another thrill shot down Starscream's spinal strut.  
  
“I think it's more a matter that you're accustomed to taking,” Starscream retorted.  
  
He leaned close to Optimus, weight braced on his free hand, and managed to get his mouth on the other end of the cube. “I do believe this was mine to start. It's only fair that I get to finish it.”  
  
“Sharing is caring,” Optimus said, and he tilted Starscream's wrist, draining the last of the engex in one fell swoop.  
  
Starscream's jaw dropped, outraged, but then Optimus gave a sharp tug and Starscream, off-balance, fell against him. A large hand gripped his chin, before a mouth fell over his. Starscream's lips parted eagerly, and he moaned as the sweet engex trickled into his mouth, just enough for a taste, before Optimus' glossa surged forward.  
  
Engex escaped from the kiss, dribbling down Starscream's chin. He lamented the loss, even as the kiss deepened, as Optimus' glossa tried to lay claim to his mouth, and Starscream refused to be taken without a fight. Optimus' kisses were often like this, as much battle as they had been on the field. Starscream wondered if he kissed like this with everyone, or if Starscream was a special case. Which wasn't to say that he didn't like it, because he did.  
  
Optimus Prime was a mech of two faces, and Starscream often wondered which parts of him belonged to which face. How much of the current Optimus was Starscream actually allowed to see?  
  
The kiss turned softer, biting. Optimus' denta nipped at Starscream's lips before his mouth wandered away, glossa cleaning up the trickles of engex that had escaped. Waste not, want not. Both factions had existed for too long without.  
  
“Hm,” Optimus said as his mouth wandered the curve of Starscream's jaw, left and right. “Not a bad substitute. A little too bitter, I think, but palatable nonetheless.”  
  
Starscream huffed a laugh. “Are you talking about me or the engex?”  
  
“Why not both?” Optimus' lips quirked into a wider smirk. His thumb rubbed Starscream's chin. “I have a moment. You have a moment. We should take advantage of this moment.”  
  
Starscream's wings fluttered despite his attempt to keep them calm. “After you've broken into my hab-suite, stolen my engex, and insulted my flavor?”  
  
“I had the passcode,” Optimus reminded him.  
  
“You had the old one.” Starscream leaned down, capturing Optimus' mouth again, taking full control of the kiss this time.  
  
He pushed his glossa into Optimus' mouth, sweeping the hidden pockets, the lingering traces of the engex. He leaned against Optimus, harder and harder, tilting him off balance. He nibbled on Optimus' bottom lip, trapping it between his denta, worrying it with his pointed canines and heard Optimus' engine rumble with delight.  
  
Masochistic Prime. Wouldn't Megatron be delighted to know?  
  
But hah! That knowledge was for Starscream and Starscream alone. This gift right here in his berth was all the victory he'd ever need.  
  
Starscream tugged on Optimus' bottom lip again and pulled back, keeping it trapped between his denta before he quickly released it. “Yes,” he said. “We should take advantage of this moment.”  
  
“I knew you'd see reason.”  
  
“Only because you have something I want,” Starscream purred, and pushed at Optimus' chest with his free hand, taking advantage of his lack of balance.  
  
Optimus' engine growled a sound of surprise as he toppled backward, losing his grip on Starscream's wrist. His back hit the berth with a vocal oof as Starscream peered into his empty cube. Yep. Not even a drop left.  
  
He tossed it over his shoulder and took advantage of the almost lascivious sprawl Optimus had taken. Starscream crawled over him, on fingers and the tips of his feet. Optimus had folded his arms behind his head, pretending it had been his intention to do so all along.  
  
“And what is it that you want?” Optimus asked as Starscream planted his aft on the Prime's rather warm groin. Hands immediately made their way to Starscream's hips, thumbs sweeping inward toward his heated panel.  
  
“Something I'm not sure you can give me.” Starscream rocked his hips, their armor lightly scraping together in such a way that low vibrations echoed through their frames.  
  
Optimus groaned, his fingers tightening on Starscream's hips. There was a low click before Starscream felt the Prime's spike beneath him, the damp head nudging at Starscream's panel.  
  
“Mmm, not sure that's it either,” Starscream said with a little laugh.  
  
“How would you know if you don't try?” Optimus suggested, something sly in his tone.  
  
Starscream cycled a ventilation as the Prime's spike bumped his panel again. “I'd hate to walk away from this encounter disappointed, Optimus.”  
  
“You won't.” Optimus rolled upward, the head of his spike leaving a streak of lubricant over Starscream's panel. “Are you going to open for me?”  
  
“Mmm, nope,” Starscream said with a smile. His glossa flicked over his lips. “I'm not feeling inspired enough yet.”  
  
Blue optics darkened in hue. “Is that so? Perhaps I can be more persuasive then.”  
  
“Well, I do have a few ideas.” Starscream nudged forward, sliding his frame up Optimus' hips, waist, chestplate. “That is, if you think you're up to it.”  
  
Optimus tilted his chin. “Try me.”  
  
Starscream laughed softly. “I intend to,” he purred and scooted further still, until he sat on Optimus' windshields, his thighs parted around Optimus' helm. “Maybe your mouth can convince me to open where your hands couldn't.”  
  
Optimus' field flashed through the room like quicksilver fire. His expression turned to one of determination – challenge accepted.  
  
His hands cradled Starscream's aft, tugged him inches closer, and then he lifted his helm and licked a long, wet stripe up the center of Starscream's hot panel.  
  
Starscream shivered, nibbling on his bottom lip. He leaned back, bracing his weight on Optimus' abdominal armor, the grill of his altmode. Starscream rocked his hips forward and down. He could feel every tickle of Optimus' glossa, every wet swipe. Lubricant continued to well in his valve, pooling at the seams.  
  
“That's, mm, that's a good start, Optimus,” he said, swallowing down a moan. His fingers curled, claws pulling strips in Optimus' paint.  
  
Optimus hummed, the vibrations buzzing against Starscream's valve panel. He gripped a little tighter, pulling Starscream harder against his mouth. He nibbled all around the edge of the panel, his glossa sneaking between seams to tease the cables beneath.  
  
Starscream shivered. “Maybe it's even enough to earn a better taste,” he said, and finally stopped denying the requests of his array. His panel slid aside, lubricant immediately dribbling free, splattering onto the Prime's face.  
  
Optimus dove in, lips latching into Starscream's anterior node and giving it a suck. Starscream's back arched as he moaned, wings going rigid. He pushed off Optimus' abdomen and tilted back forward, changing the angle just as Optimus' glossa thrust up into his valve, his calipers gamely clenching in vain.  
  
“Much, unnngh, much better,” Starscream gasped out as Optimus licked and nibbled and sucked on his valve as though he was the sweetest tasting treat Optimus had ever given himself.  
  
Starscream moaned, his hips rocking onto Optimus' mouth. He looked down to find that Optimus had shuttered his optics, and his face was liberally spattered with Starscream's lubricant. He looked focused. Intent. Determined to give Starscream pleasure.  
  
Starscream's spike popped free as though he had no self-control, pressurizing in an instant and throbbing with need. Beneath him, Optimus chuckled against his valve before nibbling on his anterior node again.  
  
Starscream sucked in a ventilation, his frame trembling. Pleasure streaked like lightning through his lines. His cooling fans roared to life.  
  
Optimus released his anterior node and licked the base of Starscream's spike, only to slide his glossa along the length of it before he could take the tip into his mouth. He swallowed the pearls of pre-fluid with needy slurps of his glossa. Starscream shuddered.  
  
“You're getting ahead of yourself, Prime,” Starscream panted, his hips rolling forward, pushing his spike eagerly into the warmth of Optimus' mouth.  
  
Optimus nipped at the tip before releasing it, returning his lips to Starscream's valve, lapping at the rim and teasing the sensors just inside of it. The metalmesh swelled, lubricant dripping onto the face beneath his thighs. Optimus' field was a wild, hungry thing. Starscream didn't even have to look to know Optimus' spike stood proud and rigid at the apex of his thighs, pre-fluid streaming into a puddle beneath his aft.  
  
Service, after all, was in the nature of a Prime. And Optimus thoroughly enjoyed service.  
  
He consumed Starscream's valve as though it were fine engex. He slurped and licked and suckled, teasing sensors, nibbling on his anterior node, making happy noises in the back of his intake. Starscream's fingers tangled in the berth cover as he rolled his hips down, again and again, riding the motions of Optimus' mouth, grinding his node on Optimus' olfactory sensor.  
  
He hadn't intended to treat himself to an overload so soon, but Optimus was hungry, eager, and who was Starscream to deny him?  
  
He offlined his optics and allowed himself to surrender to the sensation. He let Optimus' field overwhelm him, the tingling hunger in it flooding Starscream's sensornet.  
  
Starscream panted as charge gathered in his array and spread outward, licking fiery pleasure through every line. His hips took on a rhythm of their own, dancing to the tune of Optimus' mouth. His node throbbed against Optimus' lips as Optimus captured it again, scraping it between his denta.  
  
Starscream's denta ground down on a growl as he rocked his hips hard, valve spasming. Overload overran him, a torrential flood of pleasure that rang up his backstrut and out through his wings. They went rigid, flicking back, and Starscream's engine roared.  
  
He shook through his overload, valve dripping down onto the Prime's face. Optimus' ministrations gentled, the near-bite easing to a soft nuzzle that sent jolts of delight through Starscream's array.  
  
“Well,” Optimus prompted, his ex-vents a warm gust against Starscream's soaked array. “Did I satisfy?”  
  
Starscream tried to poke his processor into something more productive than a puddle. “You were… adequate,” he huffed and eased back, until his aft was planted on Optimus' chestplate, though he still felt the puffs of Optimus' ex-vents against his twitching array. He knew he was leaving smears of lubricant behind and didn't care one whit.  
  
Arousal hummed in the background. One overload would not be enough to sate it. Optimus' hands cradled his hips, fingers massaging a delicate rhythm.  
  
“Adequate enough to earn some relief of my own?” Optimus asked, his face smeared with Starscream's lubricants, and yet still he managed to look as though he were seated upon a throne.  
  
Starscream smirked and pushed himself upright, looking down the length of his frame and the curve of his cockpit. “Why, Optimus. I thought you were supposed to be an example of self-control?”  
  
“The fact that I haven't tossed you off and bent you over this berth should prove that I am,” Optimus said with a laugh, a deep chuckle that resonated straight to Starscream's spark chamber.  
  
“Hmm.” He tapped his lips with two fingers, his valve dripping onto Optimus' windshields. “I suppose you may have a point.”  
  
Optimus' optics narrowed. His hands curled around Starscream's aft. A glint of mischief appeared in his optics, and Starscream had a second to be suspicious before Optimus abruptly lifted him upward.  
  
Starscream would never admit to squawking or flailing, despite the fact Optimus lifted him with ease. The power of a Prime, an outlier, Starscream supposed.  
  
Optimus sat up and deposited Starscream into his lap, forcing Starscream's thighs to splay wide around the Prime's waist. An eager spike bumped up against his array and skimmed the soaked mesh of his valve.  
  
Starscream's wings flicked, aiming for indignant. “Impatient much?” he demanded with an arched orbital ridge.  
  
Optimus pressed their forehelms together, his hands flexing on Starscream's hips. “Only because you intend to punish me by teasing.”  
  
He tugged. Starscream's knees pressed hard against the berth, resisting Optimus' efforts to sink into his valve. His own calipers might have ached, and charge was running through his lines, but Starscream would allow this at his own pace or not at all.  
  
Optimus was not the one in charge here, no matter what he thought.  
  
Starscream folded his arms over his cockpit. “Do you want something, Optimus?” he purred, tilting his helm to briefly flick his glossa over Optimus' lips. He could taste himself, the drying remnants of his own lubricant, and it sent a thrill through his spark.  
  
It was as though he'd marked Optimus, claimed him for Starscream's own. Something Megatron could never do.  
  
The thrill brightened, sending a shiver down his spinal strut. His spike bobbed, the tip rubbing against Optimus' abdominal armor, leaving streaks behind. More marks. More claims.  
  
Optimus chased after his lips, even as Starscream leaned back to keep him wanting. “Are you trying to make me beg?” Optimus rumbled. His fingers rubbed circles on Starscream's hips.  
  
“I thought about it.” Starscream circled his hips, sank down a micrometer, catching the tip of Optimus' spike against his rim. His calipers twitched, eager to have something finally fill him. “But I am nothing if not benevolent.”  
  
He sank down, catching Optimus' spike, the head of it popping past the rim of Starscream's valve. They both shivered, Starscream's glossa flicking across his lips, as the nodes along the inside of his rim lit up like fireworks. He unfolded his arms, bracing his hands on Optimus' shoulders.  
  
“This is not benevolence,” Optimus breathed, his frame trembling from the effort of holding himself back. “You are an outright tease and I will not believe otherwise.” His thumbs worked into the gap of Starscream's hip, sweeping over the cables beneath.  
  
Starscream chuckled, despite the ripple of pleasure that built in his array. “And you have a flair for the dramatic.” He wiggled his hips, sinking further onto Optimus' spike, his valve nodes pulsing in fitful bursts of pleasure.  
  
Optimus' reply was to bury his face in Starscream's intake, lips and glossa going to work against the sensitive cables. His hands slid upward, abandoning Starscream's hips in favor of stroking the hinges of his wings.  
  
That… was a dirty trick.  
  
Starscream's plating ruffled. His sensornet was awash with heat. He licked his lips, sinking onto Optimus' spike in one slow, smooth roll of his hips. Optimus' fingers continued to play at his wing hinges before they branched out, tracing around the edges of his wings.  
  
A glossa grazed his intake cables before Optimus' lips traveled back up, claiming Starscream's mouth for a quick kiss.  
  
“That was sneaky, Prime,” Starscream said against his lips, though he had to admit that he was impressed.  
  
Optimus grinned, his palm flattening against the flat of Starscream's wings. “I learned from the best,” he purred.  
  
Their arrays came together, Optimus fully seated within Starscream. The thick head of his spike rolled nicely against his ceiling node. Starscream shivered, rolling his hips in small circles so that Prime's spike stirred against his valve nodes.  
  
“Who? That barely-Autobot spy of yours?” Starscream asked with an arched orbital ridge. His arms draped over Optimus' shoulders, bringing them closer together.  
  
Optimus pinched his wing flap, making Starscream startle. “You know very well who I'm talking about.”  
  
“Mmm. And I think you're being a bit handsy,” Starscream panted as he rolled his hips again and again, careful to keep his pace slow and measured. “Do I need to get the cuffs?”  
  
Optimus groaned, his spike pulsing in Starscream's valve. “You're trying to ruin me,” he muttered.  
  
Starscream grinned and leaned forward, his faces inches from Optimus'. “Newsflash, Prime. You're already ruined,” he purred and captured Optimus' bottom lip with his denta, applying a subtle pressure.  
  
He slammed his hips down, taking Optimus deep. Pleasure flicked between their units in bright bolts of charge.  
  
Optimus groaned and before Starscream could move out of the way, he stole Starscream's lips for a deep kiss. Starscream's ventilations hitched and he allowed it, Optimus' glossa pushing into his mouth as if attempting to consume him.  
  
He rocked harder, slamming himself onto Optimus' spike, his own spike rubbing against Optimus' abdomen over and over. He felt overload creeping up on him, charge building in his array, buzzing up his spinal strut, radiating out through his lines.  
  
A low moan vibrated in Optimus' intake as his hands tightened around Starscream, just shy of being enough to dent his armor. Everything about Optimus was leashed power, dampened strength.  
  
His field rolled out and over, swallowing Starscream whole, until he felt it dancing over his external sensor net. Even his protoform tingled as fire rushed into his array, his valve clamping down on Optimus' spike in eager ripples. He felt every throb of Prime's spike, the yawing need in his field.  
  
The kiss turned fierce, biting. Starscream tasted energon and didn't know if it was his own, or Optimus'. He wasn't sure it mattered.  
  
He broke his mouth free, tightening his arms over Optimus' shoulders. “Don't you dare overload before me,” Starscream hissed, his hips rolling faster and faster, seeking his pleasure with single-minded determination.  
  
“That choice… may not be mine to make,” Optimus gasped, his optics flickering as he slammed upward, and ground against Starscream's ceiling node.  
  
Starscream's engine growled. His thrusters threatened to spew fire. “It had better be,” he huffed. He ground down, faster and harder, rubbing his spike on Optimus' belly as he focused on the sensation in his valve.  
  
Optimus made a strangled sound, his grip tightening to the point Starscream's armor creaked. His ventilations came in sharp bursts.  
  
Optimus struggling to control himself, to obey Starscream, was one of the most arousing things in the universe. Starscream swallowed down a moan as the heat coiling in his array burst, and overload struck like a lightning bolt.  
  
His fingers tore scrapes into Optimus' shoulders as he shuddered, clamping down hard. He spurted on Optimus' abdomen, transfluid splattering the Prime's plating. He hoped it slipped through the seams, marked him deep.  
  
The overload sent static into his audials, his vision fritzed. Distantly, Starscream felt Optimus yank him down onto his spike, and then the charged wash of transfluid deep into Starscream's valve. A third, smaller overload made Starscream convulse with a choked cry, his thighs pressing hard against Optimus' hips.  
  
Optimus' mouth stole his again, his glossa plunging past Starscream's lips as if laying claim. Optimus ex-vented heat, his spike pulsing several smaller spurts of transfluid as his engine raced at full speed.  
  
Starscream hummed into the kiss, forcing it to gentle. He eased his grip on Optimus' shoulders as the spasms in his valve became less a desperate clutch, and more a gentle ripple. Optimus' spike depressurized, but lingered. His field calmed to a warm embrace.  
  
“Mmm.” Starscream made a pleased noise and ended the kiss, dragging his lips along the curve of Optimus' jaw toward his audial. “I suppose I can forgive you for breaking the law this time.”  
  
“Like all the others?” Optimus rumbled, his voice thick with amusement. His fingers loosened and slid upward, caressing Starscream's back below his wing hinges. “You break your own laws constantly, Starscream. Why should I pay any heed to them?”  
  
“Why indeed.” Starscream leaned back, feeling Optimus slip from within him, a mess of fluid following in his spike's wake. “Best be careful, Prime, you're starting to excuse yourself for reasons that sound a lot like mine. What would your precious followers have to say about that, I wonder?”  
  
“It is not an excuse,” Optimus said.  
  
“Isn't it?” Starscream arched his backstrut, wings fluttered. “And did I say followers? I meant to say, 'blind fools.'” He smirked.  
  
Optimus' optics narrowed. “I could say the same for you and yours. But then, the people of Cybertron seem to know exactly what they are getting with you.” His hands slid back down to Starscream's aft. “Do you intend to keep baiting me all night? Or is this your attempt to get me to leave?”  
  
“Sometimes, not even I'm sure,” Starscream murmured, and pressed a quick kiss to Optimus' lips. “You're the one who keeps coming back, however. Maybe you should start asking yourself why.”  
  
“I already know the answer to that,” Optimus said, his field rolling over Starscream's like an embrace. “Perhaps you should wonder why you continue to let me.”  
  
Starscream rolled his optics. “Isn't it obvious?”  
  
“With you, nothing is obvious.” Optimus smirked and slid his hands back down to Starscream's aft. “But for now, let's leave politics at the door and move this into the washracks.”  
  
Given the tackiness between his thighs, Starscream was inclined to agree. He just wasn't inclined to make things easy for Optimus.  
  
“All right,” Starscream said with a curl of his lips. “But I better get a wing rub out of it.”  
  
Optimus chuckled and patted him gently on the aft. “Deal.”  
  


****


End file.
